


The Woman Behind the Inquisitor

by ARWalsh



Series: Long Years and Many Different Lives [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Heroes with soft hearts deserve the best, precious babies in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARWalsh/pseuds/ARWalsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara Lavellan joins the Inquisition as an opportunity to escape her life of starvation and poverty. As Inquisitor Trevelyan's body guard she makes a friend...She also falls in love along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woman Behind the Inquisitor

                Clara Lavellan was a woman of opportunity. When Inquisition soldiers had passed by her clan, she’d immediately joined them. There was no doubt in the back of her mind; she was leaving a life of poverty and pain behind.  When she arrived in Haven, she’d been amazed at the scale of everything. There were people from every race and background all around her for the first time in her life. It was wonderful to belong to something so important that no one truly looked at her and only saw elf. Sure, there were a few who turned up their noses but not her brothers and sisters she fought beside. It was nice to feel wanted and like she belonged to something bigger.

                The first time she saw Cullen out of his armor and tough bravado, Clara had been amazed. He had been walking with the Herald of Andraste, the tiny woman was explaining something about daggers. She was animated in her descriptions, making thrusting movements as though she had an actual knife. Cullen smiled down timidly, his eyes were following her movements. She looked like a child playing pretend and Cullen looked like an embarrassed adult. Clara couldn’t help the small chuckle that bubbled out of her throat. The Herald was an odd one. She stopped sharpening her stone when she saw Cullen glance in her direction. Quickly ducking her head, Clara went back to sharpening her blade.

                Moments later she saw a glint of red scale armor in front of her eyes. The Herald stood before her, Cullen hanging slightly behind. She was watching Clara intently, studying the craftsmanship of her sword. The intelligence in The Herald’s eyes was startling.

                “Did you craft this yourself? It is beautiful work,” The Herald remarked. Clara shyly glanced up at her and nodded.

                “I was the smith in my clan. My job was to make weapons and armor for the entire clan, plus some to trade. It is one thing I am very proud of,” Clara replied, she hoped that didn’t sound too arrogant. The Herald didn’t appear to be annoyed, simply fascinated.

                “You should be proud,” She extended her hand, “May I?” She questioned almost sheepishly. Clara gave her the sword and watched as The Herald’s face lit up. The small woman twirled the blade in her grasp before looking to Cullen.

                “It’s so light, I have never experienced anything like this!” She exclaimed. Cullen looked over at Clara, a smile pulling at his lips.

                “What’s your name soldier?” He asked, curious. Clara stood and got her body at attention, feeling stupid for not having done so sooner.

                “Clara sir, I joined roughly a month ago.” She clasped her hands tighter behind her back. The Herald waved a dismissive hand at her.

                “Don’t be so formal, it will all go to his head.” The Herald smirked. Cullen huffed and smiled at her.

                “Come see me tomorrow before mid-day training, I would like to see you fight.” He nudged The Herald, who reluctantly handed the sword back to her. Nodding, Clara watched the two walk off towards the training grounds. A smile dotted her face. Things weren’t good, they were great.

                A month later she watched from atop a cliff as Talia dropped a mountain on herself to save them. The two of them had become friends in the oddest way. After her one on one session with Cullen, Clara had been assigned as Talia’s personal guard. The Herald had been outraged. Slowly but surely, the sourly little Marcher had given in. So she stood atop the mountain in utter horror. The snow slid down the slope and Clara couldn’t breathe. How could one person be so selfless that they would burry themselves alive to save everyone else? It made Clara’s stomach churn. It got even worse when she saw the look on her commander’s face. He was grief stricken.  The mountain air burned her face, but Clara couldn’t bring herself to care. Her friend was dead and nothing would make that hurt better.

                Then came Skyhold and the hurt did go away. That beautiful and strong fortress would now hold broken and tired people. It would give them shelter and offer protection to anyone seeking it. Clara was glued to Talia’s side as she performed her duties as Inquisitor. Most days it was mundane. Talia would speak with a noble and as soon as they were out of ear shot, the two women would laugh and gossip. Other times Talia’s role of Inquisitor was rough, having to judge a prisoner. She would do so with caution and grace, weighing her options before a decision was made. Those were the days Clara stood by her side, back straight and head held high. She hopped that she could lend Talia at least some of her strength. The hardest days were the times Talia doubted herself. Clara would lend the small woman  her shoulder, and would hold her as she cried.

 An assassination attempt came. It put fear back into Clara’s heart. None of them, including Leliana, were prepared when an arrow sailed through the air and landed in Talia’s shoulder. She didn’t flinch or give any indication of pain; instead she dropped to the ground. Poison, Clara could smell it. The acrid odor that made her eyes water was not a new scent. Clara ran to the battlements were other guards were rushing. She got their first, blade drawn. The assassin was a young, beautiful boy. His eyelashes were long and kissed the top of his cheeks. Never in her life had Clara fought a more skilled assassin. He moved fast and was unpredictable in his movements. His blade got her in the chest once before Clara realized how this would end. This boy was not going to be captured. She gave the fatal blow as quickly as she could. After a moment’s thought she sloppily grappled him to the ground. Pushing the blade up through his ribs, she struck his heart. It was over like that. Her head blurred and she collapsed. The boy’s blades were apparently poisoned too.

                When she awoke in the infirmary, Talia lay in the bed next to hers. Clara couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt worse. Her head hurt and her insides felt like they were rotting. What brought her away from the pain was Cullen sitting quietly in between the two beds reading a book. His amber eyes were intently studying the page. His curly golden hair was unusually unruly, a general mess. The white cotton shirt he wore was wrinkled from sitting in one spot too long.

                “Can I get some water please?” She rasped out. Cullen started and threw the book aside. He looked down at her, relief written all over his face. Pouring her a glass, he helped her sit up to drink. A gentle hand was placed on her back. She leaned back, appreciating the support. Clara guzzled down the water eagerly. Something as a simple as water tasted like heaven.

                “How are you feeling Clara?” He asked, voice gravely from lack of sleep. Lying back down, she looked over at him affectionately.

                “It hurts but I will live,” She spoke, voice strained. The tight wrappings around her chest were freshly changed and her clothes were clean. “Is Inquisitor Talia alright?” She nearly choked. Cullen nodded and glanced at the sleeping woman.

                “She woke up a few hours before you. Talia was ready to go hunt the assassin down herself, stubborn girl had to be sedated.” He replied to her quietly. The bags under his eyes were rather telling.

                “Thank the maker, I was so worried.” Clara ran a hand through her inky hair. The dark skin of her chest was an even darker mess of blue and purple bruises. Cullen placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She knew he could easily feel how bony and narrow they were. Clara hated how skinny she was.

                “I am glad you are alright Clara, losing you-” he trailed off, “It would have been devastating to have lost either one of you,” He corrected. Clara felt a flush rise up her neck to her face.

                “Thank you sir,” She whispered.

                When she was back on her feet, Clara went to visit Cullen. She was highly uncomfortable in the loose dress Talia had given her. It was ridiculously comfortable but too luxurious. Knocking on his office door, she waited a moment before entering. The room was warm and smelled of incense, definitely Talia’s doing. Cullen was seated at his desk, head down.

                “Sir, I just wanted to say thank you for coming to see me in the hospital. I know you were probably there for Talia but it was still nice,” She spoke calmly. Cullen looked up and managed to appear bewildered. The pinch between his brow was always his tell.

                “Talia tried to throw a shoe at me, I stayed to make sure you were alright. You are, if my opinion matters, a friend. A friend who was injured, protecting another dear friend.” He spoke calmly. Clara smiled at him. There was a warm stirring in her chest, a flutter. Cullen stood from his desk, surprisingly free of his armor. “And please call me Cullen,” He requested gently. Ducking her head, she couldn’t help but once again feel flushed.

                “Well thank you again Cullen,” she murmured.  Then he paused his movements and studied her intently. The dress, oh maker, he was staring at the dress. Clara was hesitant to wear it, now she completely regretted it. She must look so unprofessional, standing there in silk.

                “That’s a lovely color on you,” He stated thoughtfully, “You should have some red added to your armor,” he said. Clara chuckled and shook her head.

                “I am not crazy like the Inquisitor. For someone who relies on stealth, she wears an awful lot of color.”

                When Cullen’s shield accidently clipped her cheek while they were training, Clara thought Cullen might pass out of all the apologizing. Trying unsuccessfully to reassure him that it was an accident, she allowed him to inspect her face. She could already feel the bruise forming. What surprised her was the intimate way he held her face in one hand and her shoulder with the other. Even more surprising was when he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her lips. As he kissed her, Clara could feel the scratch of his stubbed and the thin scar above his lip. She could smell sweat and herbs on him. She could feel the press of his warm body against hers. It was soft, warm, and perfect…and also very public. A wolf whistle could be heard from the balcony above them. Glancing up, Clara could make out the fiery red hair of Talia. Cringing, she waved up at the woman.

                “Let’s take this back to your office shall we,” Clara whispered in his ear.

                Suspiciously for the next four hours, no one bothered them once.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to anyone who reads my work. I haven't been posting for the last week or so because I just settled into my new house. The other thing is right after I got here the Orlando shooting took place an hour or so away from my house. As a member of the LGBT community, it has been hard to get my groove back. Please keep everyone in your thoughts and do what you can to help and spread awareness.


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